


To Blame and Burn

by sharkbaithahaha



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dealing With Trauma, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hogwarts Professors, Ministry of Magic (Harry Potter), POV Original Character, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Post-Canon, Post-War, The Ministry of Magic (Harry Potter) is Terrible, Trauma, Wizarding America - Freeform, american magic, bereavement, f/f relationship, f/m relationship, m/m relationship, this is essentially a story about what happens after the battle of hogwarts, trying to find peace, trying to live normally again
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:01:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24757438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharkbaithahaha/pseuds/sharkbaithahaha
Summary: The year is 1999. After closing for a year for repairs and some other major changes, Hogwarts is ready to educate students again. Cassie Glassman is looking forward to making a difference, but what can she do when the past haunts the students and staff? What can she do when her own past won't release her from its grip? And does the past have anything to do with the weird incidents cropping up throughout the year?(Rated M for coarse/suggestive language, dark themes, and descriptions of violence. Please read at your discretion. Gen Category because while relationships are included in this fic, they are not the focus. Tags will be added as needed.)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	1. the start of term

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own J.K. Rowling's Potterverse or all its affiliated creations. This is a fanwork meant to expand the Potterverse and our understanding of it. This work is also meant to provide some development, growth, and closure for some of our beloved characters.

She glanced at the castle once more. It was hard to look at it and not cast her mind back to the photograph she’d seen in the _Roanoke Star_. Tumbling walls, dilapidated by narrowly missed battle spells. A soft breeze raking across patches of a once-viridescent lawn. Debris falling this way and that, even after wands had lowered for a considerable amount of time. No, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry did not look the same as in its photograph. If anything, it looked healthy. Almost glaringly so, she had to admit. But then again, Cassie wasn’t the type to begrudge anyone a lie regarding worth or image. It was not her place to judge the castle for trying its best in the face of the new school year.

Even so, she hesitated to step through its defenses. It had been a little over a year since the foundations had been decimated by the battle that won the Second Wizarding War. And yet, not a whisper of said battle remained except in the knowledge privy to all who lived at this time. The spirits of the fallen lingered, perhaps not menacingly, but their presence hung in the air heavily enough for her to be wary. They would have nothing to do with her, most likely, and she hoped that they would have just as much to do with her her students.

Ah, right. Her students. She supposed she should get on with it and settle in. She would have to check in with the Headmistress since a start of term meeting had been intimated in the last owl without mention of an exact time. She hadn’t met the rest of the faculty in person, but she had corresponded with a few while constructing her course. September 1st was but two days away and she had quite the semester ahead of her. From her probationary role as an instructor to having to teach students her own age—for of course, who would deny Hogwarts students affected by Magical Britain’s WW2 the chance to pass their O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s and move on with their lives—Cassie was more than aware of the challenges that lay ahead.

Everything was old, she told herself as she traversed through the halls. At every turn, she expected some sign of damage but was only met with the age of the castle. It wasn’t like American magical schools. Admittedly, she’d only visited a few but it was enough to be able to make the distinction. No American magical institution thrummed as forcefully with ambient magic. It was slightly disconcerting at first and did little to dispel her worries of taking this position. But she thought better of it after a couple of paintings smiled sociably her way just before one of the steps to the third floor tried to make her fall through the staircase. There was so much magic buzzing around her that she had almost fallen for it (pun intended), but she was nothing if not constantly aware of her surroundings at all times. She arrived at what she assumed to be the Headmistress’ office with most of her wits about her and slightly more respect for the castle.

“ _Founders’ Fudge_ ,” she said quietly but firmly to the ugly gargoyle. Really, why had anyone ever thought to install such a dismal thing? It didn’t move at all and only glared at her unkindly, which made her begin to seriously doubt herself. Was she mistaken? Perhaps she should have read the Headmistress’ letter again. Or perhaps the password had been wrong. Then, as if the gruesome-looking gargoyle had only been messing with her, it began to twist up, up, revealing yet another staircase. She would have proceeded with caution, but she sincerely doubted the Headmistress was one for practical jokes. She turned the knob to the door at the top of the steps and entered the room with a deep breath.

“Ah, Miss Glassman. Yes, yes, do come in and conjure a chair for your use.”

It was just Cassie’s luck that she happened to stumble upon the start of term meeting. She hated being an interruption, but she thanked Tituba she wasn’t facing the Headmistress alone. Much worse, she could have missed the meeting entirely, and if that didn’t tell her employer that she was unworthy of her newly acquired position she would Kiss a Dementor.

“Yes, ma’am,” she replied in what she hoped wasn’t too obvious of a Southern American lilt. Her wand was out and less than seven seconds later she was seated in a serviceable chair between the largest person and the most unconventionally dressed instructor there. The room was dark and very bare. There was only a long, granite-topped table in the center embellished with three candelabras evenly spaced. The candlelight cast a dim glow that failed to reach the edges of the room, though each instructor’s features were fairly clear. There might have been a bookshelf against the wall, she thought, and cabinets, but it was hard to tell. She felt an uneasy feeling settle in her shoulders. Her paranoia prickled at her every sensation.

She inclined her head as a subtle greeting to the others as she sat, and they turned back to the Headmistress after stealing peeks at her with varying degrees of curiosity.

“Right. Well, no use in dawdling further, is there? I suppose we’ll have to complete our number later in the evening. Professor Binns, as some of you are aware, rarely graces us with his spectral presence, so we shall not expect him tonight. For the benefit of those who join us this term, he is our History of Magic professor. Madam Pomfrey also will not be joining us tonight. She is the school matron and will be teaching the new Healing elective for sixth and seventh years. Now, as we have much to discuss, may the introductions begin on my right.” She looked expectantly at the portly man next to her.

“Oh!” He gave a start as if this came as a great surprise. “My name is Horace Slughorn, and I am the Potions Master.” He smiled cordially at the rest of the table, but his grin was wrought with wear and tear. Cassie would bet her wand arm that he had fought alongside the Headmistress and other staff in battle.

“Professor Slughorn is also the current interim Head of Slytherin House,” the Headmistress added helpfully.

“Just so.” He waggled a wide finger at them brazenly.

“I am Professor Pomona Sprout,” said the woman beside him. She smiled warmly, though her eyes betrayed a sort of exhaustion specific to emotion. “I am the Herbology instructor and Head of Hufflepuff House.”

Introductions went around the table rather quickly after that. It seemed that most of the other instructors wanted to keep things brief. They all had better things to do than attend a faculty meeting, after all. Cassie tried her best to keep up.

“Septima Vector, Arithmancy.” Sharp, calculating eyes passed over them.

“Sophia Hart, Wandlore and Nature Magic electives.” Long, smooth dark hair framed a rounded face hosting bright eyes and an overeager expression.

“Sybil Trelawney, Divination.” Large round glasses and a drab-looking shawl were adjusted nervously.

“Bathsheda Babbling, Ancient Runes.” Smart robes of a golden hue and a soft voice belying hawk-like features.

“Hwa-Young Hwang, Languages elective and Magical Systems Around the World.” A soft voice and a serene, reserved countenance.

The woman next to Cassie spoke next. She alone seemed to be immune to the pace of the introductions. She blinked slowly and spoke even slower, her outrageously tacky floral robes shifting as she moved scraggly blond hair behind her left ear, from which a peace sign made of hemp dangled. “My name is Alessia Woodwalker. I was educated at the Sacramento Center for American Magic.” Cassie had to stifle a laugh even though going to a school called _SCAM_ was probably the best thing she’d heard since a hag had found her brother Eltanin unappetizing. “For the past few years, I have been working in MaCUSA’s Magical and Non-Magical Relations sector in the San Francisco division. I am here to gain experience towards my formal teaching license. I will be the... Muggle Studies instructor for the duration of my stay.” She blinked slowly again with a blank-as-paper gaze, but Cassie didn’t miss the slight purse of her lips at the word “Muggle” and had to actively stop herself from nodding in approval. “My purview includes study of Art and Music among non-magical communities.” There was a pause. No one was sure Alessia Woodwalker was finished with her spiel until she said, “I look forward to my semester here.”

With a jolt, Cassie realized it was her turn. “Cassiopeia Glassman, Defense. And the Dueling elective.” It was blunt, but effective enough in bringing back the flow. 

“Rubeus Hagrid, Magizoology.” Upon a look from the Headmistress, the abnormally large wizard added, “Interim Head o’ Gryffindor House.”

“Alberto Phineas Guerrero, Transfiguration. I will also be leading the new Technomancy elective.” A severe expression regarded them all, as if daring them to question his position. If one of Cassie’s teachers had ever looked at her like that, she might have melted into the consistency of unicorn blood (not that she was _that_ familiar with the stuff, of course). 

“Filius Flitwick, Charms and Head of Ravenclaw House.” A squeaky voice came out of a man half her size. “I also direct the Frog Choir and teach the Music elective.”

“Aurora Sinistra, Astronomy and Astrology.” Dark, heavy lashes fluttered, but all Cassie really noticed was her large pointed hat bathed in a subtle magenta adorned with golden astrological signs.

“David Wilcox, International Relations. I will also be teaching the Art and Writing electives.” If the accent had told her nothing, the friendly smile was definitely American.

“Wilma Weatherby, Ancient Studies.” A croaky voice came from wizened features.

“Rolanda Hooch, Quidditch referee and coach. I will also be teaching the new Health and Wellness requirement.” She didn’t look too excited at the prospect. Cassie tried to keep her mouth from twisting in a grimace.

They had rounded back to the Headmistress. Looking satisfied, she let a purposeful pause fill the room before continuing with faculty business. They talked about class sizes, made plans to match up syllabi, and had just finished discussing sensitivity training for the new staff when the door burst open.

“Pardon the intrusion,” said a confident tenor that made Cassie’s head snap toward the other side of the room. She felt dread gathering at the pit of her stomach and a cold sweat had begun to pool in her palms. She’d know that voice anywhere, even if the mischievous glint of his amber eyes hadn't given it away immediately.

He conjured a seat between the Headmistress and Madam Hooch, the latter seeming to mask an offended expression. As the senior staff member, she could have been shown more respect, but he was nothing if not an irksome braggart in Cassie’s opinion.

“Jacob Ravenwood, at your service.” He gave an all-too-wide grin, perfect teeth flashing at the rest of the table. “I’ll be teaching Alchemy and Magical Theory. I’m also the Career Advisor and Internship Coordinator. And of course, I’m here to keep an eye on the new recruits. Give them what they need, you know. I’m here to supervise and micromanage—” he paused to grin but no one laughed— “and just take care of things in general.” He turned to look at each of the new faces, and Cassie felt sick. “I’m here for you just as I’m here for the students.” His eyes met hers, and she could have sworn he smirked. He looked like a big cat who was planning to play with its prey before snuffing out its miserable little life. “Anything you need.” Those last words were soft, but his eyes never left Cassie's face as he said them. Each felt like a blow.

“Yes, well,” the Headmistress sniffed. “It’s high time we concluded this meeting. For the benefit of the new instructors," she added, “Dinner will be available in the Great Hall as always, but you are welcome to partake in a working meal. Your quarters are adjacent to your office or classroom. I will be sending schedules sometime after breakfast tomorrow. Should you require assistance or directions, simply ask a portrait or a ghost. Ah—not our poltergeist, though.” She affected an expression that might have passed for embarrassment in someone less regal. “He is not helpful in the least and I can only hope he won’t suss out your whereabouts in the first week. There are 142 staircases and many have trick steps or suddenly change direction, but there are seven staff tunnels you may use at your discretion. Students may _never_ be permitted to discover these passages, so many staff members simply don’t risk using them.” She regarded them with a serious look. “If a student does happen to discover the nature of these passages… well, it would be wise to seek my counsel.”

After a beat, nods and quiet sounds of affirmation filled the room. The Headmistress rose as if to dismiss them, but Jacob Ravenwood stood and intercepted her. 

“Headmistress,” he said with a jovial intonation that made Cassie’s stomach twist uncomfortably. “I wonder if you may allow me to appropriate your office for a short amount of time? Only, mine is not so grand and I had been hoping to speak with our newer instructors separately.”

A flash of annoyance flared in the Headmistress’ eyes, but it was too quick for Cassie to be sure that it had ever been there. Her voice was level as she spoke.

“But of course, Mister Ravenwood. I’ve been meaning to speak with the Heads of Houses in the adjacent chamber. POMONA!” she snapped rather loudly, making those around her jump or gawk or at the very least appear unnerved. The Herbology Professor scrambled after her, followed by Horace Slughorn, Filius Flitwick, and Rubeus Hagrid. Other faculty members filed out, murmuring farewells as they left. Madam Hooch gave Jacob Ravenwood a reproachful look (which he either didn’t notice or pretended not to) before she marched out determinedly.

Cassie looked around, searching for anything to catch her attention that wasn’t Jacob Ravenwood. The other instructors left were Alessia Woodwalker, David Wilcox, Alberto Phineas Guerrero, Sophia Hart, and Hwa-Young Hwang. They hovered around either side of the table, awaiting whatever Jacob Ravenwood had planned for them.

“This is it, huh?” He lounged in the seat the Headmistress had vacated, throwing his feet up on the table. Cassie felt sick again, though it was way past the time for her to feel surprised. “You all don’t look like much. No offense meant, of course. It’s not your fault that your institutions couldn’t afford to send their best.”

No offense meant? What was the purpose of saying that when he obviously meant to offend them? Cassie fought to keep her face blank, but she couldn’t quite quell the fury reddening her cheeks. Jacob Ravenwood was still the same self-important, disrespectful, _arrogant_ —

He began to laugh. A couple of the instructors exchanged bewildered looks as he held his stomach, doubling over. His face went positively red with mirth. Was he hammered or something?

“Oh—you should have seen your _face_ ,” he chortled happily before leaning his head back with his eyes closed. He had all the air of an indolent prince. He sat up, taking his feet off the table and fixing those honey-colored eyes on them. “Look at that pride—no, no, don’t be too offended, now. Can’t have a joyless workplace, can we? What would the children be learning?” He threw them an insincere grin, as if it were all in good humor. No one smiled back. “Take a seat, take a seat! The Heads of Houses meetings always run long. They’re only an excuse for the Headmistress and her friends to gossip about us, anyway.”

There was a moment of hesitation, and then one by one they sat on either side of the infuriating wizard. Cassie was at the far end on his left, next to Sophia Hart.

“As you all know already, my name is Jacob Ravenwood. I acquired my teaching license last year and I am cleared to work full-time in Britain." He didn't look at them as he said this, instead opting to observe the small ribbon-like streams of smoke he was creating with his wand. "I’ve been here since January assisting the Headmistress with this school year, so if there are any issues I expect to hear from you. Now, don’t get any funny ideas about sucking up to me—” he broke his focus to smile winningly at them as if this was one great joke, “because nothing I do or say is going to influence the Headmistress’ decision in keeping you on the staff. She alone hires, and she alone fires. Although a glowing recommendation on your behalf from yours truly could go a long way in other fields.” He again waited a beat as if they were going to laugh.

It was awful. Cassie missed everything he said because she kept telling herself over and over that she couldn’t hex her supervisor on her first night. The two instructors across from her, David Wilcox and Alberto Phineas Guerrero, seemed to be having the same problem. Jacob Ravenwood rambled on and on about what an honor it was to work here, how the Headmistress had gone to great lengths to get the school to reopen, how he had rightfully earned his position of authority over them. Finally, he decided that ten full minutes making enemies of his subordinates was enough for one night, or that he was too important to babysit them. Whatever the reason, he left abruptly and cheerily, giving them a single wink before he closed the door behind him.

“Is he… always that aggravating?” someone breathed. Cassie looked up. David Wilcox was looking at them as if he needed confirmation of what had just occurred.

“ _You_ ,” the other wizard spat at her. Cassie jumped at the harsh sound, wondering what his problem was. 

“Me?” she asked, her eyebrows scrunching in confusion.

“Yes, _you_ ,” he repeated. He looked like he was having trouble controlling his breathing from sheer rage. Cassie let her hand slip subtly into her robe pocket for her wand.

“What about me?” Her voice was soft, but the challenge was clear. She looked at him flatly.

“You know him,” he said accusingly, his small dark eyes probably trying to bore a hole in her face. “It was obvious from the way you reacted to his entrance. You knew this was going to happen. How do you know him? Did he get you this position?”

“How is that your business?” she snapped. “I reacted, as you said, but if you paid even one iota of actual attention you would know that I _wasn’t expecting him here_.”

“You know him?” the woman next to her asked, visibly surprised as she turned to face her. Her dark hair moved like a curtain and slid back from her face as her jaw tilted upward in interest. “How?”

Cassie huffed in annoyance. “It doesn’t matter. I’d rather not talk about unpleasantries my first night here. All you need to know is that I earned my place here, same as you.” Her chin raised defiantly, hoping that she came across as firm and not goading.

“Alright, alright, let's not get our wands in a knot,” David Wilcox laughed nervously. His obvious attempt at diffusing the tension mostly faltered.

“I suppose it’s not your fault your… _acquaintance_ is disagreeable.” Alberto Phineas Guerrero turned away from her, seemingly no longer interested in her affairs. Cassie held back a sigh of relief.

“I think it’s time we turned in,” said Alessia Woodwalker in that slow drawl of hers. She was the first one to stand, and they followed her out and down the gargoyle-guarded steps. No one spoke to each other, but Cassie fell into step behind Hwa-Young Hwang and Sophia Hart on her way to the Defense classroom. If the other two had been conversing, she wouldn’t have noticed. It was a good thing she didn’t have to take stairs, either, as she was focused solely on her own thoughts and likely would have fallen prey to every trick step in her path.

Jacob Ravenwood was here and he was going to ruin her life. No, she told herself, he couldn’t because it would not be so easy. She was not going to _make_ it easy, either. Though she still felt sick in her stomach at the thought of them sharing an employer, she felt something else in her solidify. No one knew how this year was going to go, sure, but that was the beauty of it. She could do what she wanted and achieve anything she set her mind to. And that, she told herself, was something Jacob Ravenwood could never stop her from doing. She would see to that herself.


	2. the weighing of the wands

The decision to eat breakfast in the Great Hall the next morning had been unnecessarily preambled with great trepidation. Cassie should have realized that the wizard she wanted to avoid (and whom she was pointedly not thinking about) would never wake up in time for an early breakfast. So it was at seven in the morning that she found herself hesitantly greeting some of the early risers on the staff and trying not to gape at the ceiling. It was obviously spelled to look like the sunny sky, but she couldn’t tell if it was the image of the real sky or just a very, very good enchantment. It was probably the latter, but she still had to quash the childish curiosity threatening to take over her normally reserved expression.

Most of the students wouldn’t be coming until the next day, so members of the staff were seated closer together for conversation and convenience. Some kids had arrived already, mostly to test out of certain requirements or classes, but it was too early for them to be in the Great Hall anyway. Cassie was looking forward to a big breakfast, knowing that she had a lot of things to get done today, namely _sleep_. She had spent the majority of the night casting wards around her office and living quarters. They had been so extensive that she had only closed her eyes for what felt like five minutes before her wand woke her at six. She couldn't bring herself to regret it, as one could never be too careful around other magic-users (not to mention her suspicions that the guy _she was definitely not thinking about_ was just waiting for her to reveal a weakness or show a moment's vulnerability). It was only a matter of taking an Invigoration Draught that she would have to remember to brew again later and a few simple cosmetic charms until she felt like she could present herself in public without being noticeably exhausted.

She sat next to the Astronomy and Astrology instructor, a seat that was incidentally across from Sophia Hart. Aurora Sinistra was wearing robes of a deep purple today, along with a matching hat that had astrological signs etched in silver. If the ensemble hadn’t looked so well-tailored, Cassie might have accused her of using coloring charms on the one from the night before. Her own robes were a light black with crimson lining. There wasn’t much interesting about her attire, really. She dressed for practicality most days.

As she scarfed down her breakfast, dark brown eyes across from her seemed to want to say something. Aurora Sinistra was scribbling on a piece of parchment as she ate, grumbling less than flowery things about having to add astrology to her syllabus while Sophia Hart tried to start conversation in several different ways. It would have been entertaining if her choice of victim hadn’t abruptly switched to Cassie.

“So, you’re Cassiopeia, right? Where are you from?” Her tone was light and casual, but Cassie had a hard time figuring the motive behind it.

“Just Cassie is fine,” she said while on a tea break from her toast, “I’m from Virginia. What about you?”

“Virginia, huh? That’s cool. I’m from Minnesota.” She said it like “mini soda.”

“St. Paul’s?” Cassie guessed. “Good place.”

“Yeah, that’s right.” There was an appreciative tone Sophia Hart affected that Cassie didn’t really know what to do with. “Where did you go?”

“Virginia Magical Institute.” She spoke casually, but defensiveness automatically tightened her jaw.

“Oh, I… haven’t heard of that, actually. Sorry.” She sounded honest in her apology, but Cassie didn’t mind. No opinion was better than a bad opinion in this case. Not everyone in the American magical community appreciated a militant style of schooling paired with a fast-track education that didn’t factor in months-long summer breaks, so criticism was common from those who knew very little but spoke very loudly.

“It’s not well-known outside of Virginia. It’s a small school,” she supplied. If she had hoped that that would end the conversation, she was sorely mistaken.

“I’m from California,” someone from Professor Sinistra’s other side cut in slowly, despite having told all of them just last night that she had graduated from a school called _SCAM_.

“How interesting,” Sophia Hart murmured. She looked at the witch next to her. “What about you, Hwa-Young? Where did you go to school?”

“I went to the Quintana School of Magic.” Upon blank looks, she added, “It’s in Dallas.”

“I didn’t know Thiago Quintana established a school. That’s simply wonderful. What a way to be commemo—”

“Uh, he didn’t,” Hwa-Young Hwang said quickly, cutting off the blonde. She glanced at the witch, the very picture of polite apology. “It was his son or grandson or something. They moved from Arkansas when Quintana the wandmaker was chased out for allegedly endangering the White River Monsters.” She flushed as if she thought she’d said too much.

Her discomfort made Cassie want to console her, oddly. It was rare for Cassie to have a maternal instinct flare up like that, but she felt the urge to run with it. “It’s my understanding that those allegations were never proven. Though it is a shame he never passed on his technique of handling the White River Monsters.”

Hwa-Young Hwang glanced at her uncertainly at first. Her gaze held for little more than a second but shifted to something more like gratitude. “It actually isn’t totally lost. There’s rumor of his legendary journal residing somewhere within the school. Though that was just the kind of myth they spread around the school in my day.”

Cassie let amusement color her tone. “What does the legend say, exactly? What happens if you acquire the journal?” The others around them were listening, some involuntarily leaning in. Sophia Hart in particular was enthralled judging by the way her eyes shone.

“Oh, all sorts of things,” Hwa-Young Hwang said dismissively, though Cassie could tell it was a show by the way the woman’s painted lips quivered subtly. She let the anticipation build even more by taking the time to sip from her teacup. “Some said you would come into unspeakable power once reading its pages. Others said the object was cursed and could only be safely handled by a direct descendant. There were also rumors that some of the White River Monster spines were hidden along with the journal under heaps of preservation charms so that wands could again be made and that the finder would make a small fortune if they chose to inflate the market.”

“I haven’t seen a wand with that core,” Sophia Hart said breathlessly. “They’re exceedingly rare, and lots of families kept theirs within their lines.”

“You can still match for one if you go to the right places.” Hwa-Young Hwang’s look had no small amount of pride. “He left a few in his will for his son, but that’s not really common knowledge. So there _are_ a few out there, but the current Quintana patriarch doesn’t let anyone near them unless they can prove they’ve had significant difficulty matching with a wand elsewhere.” Cassie thought her voice had gotten a bit smaller at the end there, but perhaps she was just imagining it. Hwa-Young Hwang’s voice was naturally soft, so it was hard to tell.

“How do you know that?” They were all thinking it, but Sophia Hart asked outright.

“Simple. I have one.” Hwa-Young Hwang looked a little sheepish at her brag, but their half of the table was too engaged to notice or care. 

“Show me,” Sophia Hart demanded. She had a wild look about her, though Cassie thought that it was probably overexcitement.

“I don’t really think that’s appropriate,” Cassie interrupted sharply. She didn’t miss the flash of annoyance in Sophia Hart's expression as the witch tried to pretend not to grit her teeth. Cassie continued, trying to soften her tone, “It’s one thing to discuss a wand, but it’s quite another to ask a witch to brandish it in public—or more extremely, to hand it over.” The blush that took over Sophia Hart’s features confirmed Cassie’s suspicions. The woman had totally been looking forward to a hands-on approach. Holding back a scoff, Cassie instead settled for a small smile that she hoped was only gently admonishing. “You’ll understand if I’m a bit paranoid. It does wonders for my subject, after all.”

A deep chuckle came from the woman next to her. Aurora Sinistra had risen from the clutches of her convoluted syllabus and was apparently perfectly amused by all this hubbub. Her voice was as deep as her laugh, a smooth contralto that would be comforting if her playful tone hadn’t set off sirens in Cassie’s head. “Of course, Miss Glassman. One can never be too careful, even when academic curiosity gets the better of us.”

“Just Cassie, thank you,” she murmured in response as Sophia Hart turned to apologize profusely to Hwa-Young Hwang.

The rest of breakfast passed mostly in silence, with Sophia Hart asking after the majority of the table’s wands but avoiding Cassie entirely. Cassie couldn’t say she particularly minded. She wasn’t the most conversational type anyway.

On her way out, she noticed Hwa-Young Hwang following her. It wasn’t all that odd, as their offices were generally in the same direction, but she had to suppress a jump at the gentle hand that tugged the elbow of her sleeve.

“Thank you for that, by the way.” It wasn’t unclear what she meant.

Turning to face her as they walked, Cassie let out an undignified snort. “What did she think, that she’d be able to see the core by holding it? Weird, considering she’s supposed to be teaching the Wandlore elective.”

Hwa-Young Hwang giggled. Cassie generally found giggles annoying, but Hwa-Young Hwang made it sound pretty instead of silly.

“I’m not sure she was thinking at all,” the other woman replied, the corner of her rose pink lips curled in what Cassie was beginning to recognize as an ill-stifled smirk. “But I do think you were gracious at breakfast today, so I do hope you’ll accept my thanks.”

“Uh, sure?” Cassie looked at her quizzically. 

The other witch rolled her eyes but grinned genially. “I mean that I hope you’ll accept my thanks in the form of friendship.”

Cassie raised a brow but said nothing for a long moment. They reached the stairs that would take them to the third floor before she had said a word in response. The witch had matched Cassie’s stride and didn’t look to be too bothered by her lack of response. If anything, it looked like she didn’t care how Cassie responded, which only confused Cassie further.

Finally, as Cassie jumped over the step that would make her fall, she said, “It’s always good to make friends where you can.”

Hwa-Young jumped the step right after her, smiling triumphantly. “Of course. Which reminds me—”

Cassie heard the shuffling of fabric and didn’t wait a half-second before turning to face the other witch. Her wand was drawn and pointed towards her opponent in the same move, with three separate shields cast between them and a Bubble-Head Charm to boot. To anyone else, it would have looked wickedly fast, but Cassie was accustomed to having her wand arm always at the ready. 

Hwa-Young raised a brow at her. Her own wand was out but held loosely in the middle instead of the handle. “I guess you _are_ paranoid, huh? Figures.” She flashed a sweet smile in Cassie’s direction to let her know that she wasn’t offended. “I was just going to say that I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” Her smile had taken on a mischievous twist that Cassie didn’t fully trust, but she released the Bubble-Head Charm on herself and let down the shields. The danger wasn’t immediate, anyway. Whatever Hwa-Young Hwang had planned for her, it was slow-burning.

Since her wand was already out, Cassie didn’t bother to put it away. That, and she didn’t want Hwa-Young to take advantage of the moment it was no longer pointed at her.

“Southern Red Oak, also known as Spanish Oak. It’s eleven and a half inches with okay flexibility. The core is snallygaster heartstring.” She waited a beat, and then said, “It’s not my first wand. My other snapped when I was sixteen, so I matched with this one as an adult.”

Hwa-Young nodded sagely. “Nice. It’s lucky that you were able to match with another wand. Mind if I ask what your first one was?”

Cassie tried not to look annoyed that she was giving more information than necessarily warranted. Hwa-Young had also assumed that she had matched with her previous wand. 

“Actually, my first wand was a hand-me-down. It was Flowering Dogwood, the tree of my state, with wampus fur as the core. It was extremely supple.” She tried to dispel the reminiscence she felt blossoming in her chest from bleeding into her tone. “Hard to work with if I’m honest, but I can’t say it ever did me wrong.”

There was a pause as Hwa-Young took this in. She gave a small smile before bringing her own wand forward, flipping it handle-first. That detail was the only reason Cassie didn’t have shields springing up between them again. Hwa-Young seemed to know this because her smile widened ever so slightly.

“You already know my core, but the wood is Cedar Elm. Nine and a quarter inches, so a bit on the shorter side, but it makes up for it in flexibility. It took me almost a month to match with a wand. Even then, it wasn't too receptive to my magic so my Principal decided to send a letter of reference to the Quintanas. My family thought I might have been born without magic because every wand I tried failed me.” She looked sad and something about the droop of her shoulders made Cassie want to lower her wand and comfort her. She didn’t follow either instinct, but she wanted to.

“You didn’t have accidental magic as a child?” she asked. 

“Oh, I did, only my brothers could easily have taken credit for it… or rather, been blamed for it. It’s not like anyone ever _saw_ me break into the kimchi fridge in the middle of the night. But then, it wouldn’t have been very sneaky of me if everyone knew.” Her eyes brightened, much to Cassie’s relief. She couldn’t handle standing idle in front of what looked like a sad baby bird much longer.

“Well, I guess I’ll have to watch my back,” she joked.

“You mean you already don’t? Color me astonished.” She waved and made a right while Cassie veered left. “I’ll see you later, Cassie!”

“I don’t think I could avoid you if I tried,” Cassie replied wryly, though she would never know if Hwa-Young had actually heard her. She made a beeline for her quarters and, after checking the wards for anything amiss, dove straight under her covers and knocked out.

  
  
  


Cassie should have known that she couldn’t avoid Jacob Ravenwood forever. But it just wasn’t fair that he was waiting for her right outside her classroom. 

“Your office is heavily warded, I’m guessing? I didn’t try to waltz in, though I’m sure you recall that my Viennese is flawless—just wondering if you’re still a paranoid jade.” His smooth tone put her on edge. She didn’t have to look at him to know that he was smirking.

“I don’t want to talk to you.” She sped up her pace, hoping that he would get tired and stop following her. Then again, he was probably going to the Great Hall for dinner. She cursed herself mentally, wishing that she hadn’t skipped lunch because of her nap. When it was clear that he was not going to leave her alone, she held back a sigh. “How long were you waiting?”

“A gentleman never tells.”

“Good thing you’re not a gentleman.”

“Ooh, good one! Have you been practicing retorts just for me?”

“Oh, Jacob. You know the only target practice I ever have in mind for you is with the wrong end of my wand.”

“You wound me, good lady. Have I fallen so far from your graces that you would seek to disparage me so? Are we not good friends?”

She stopped abruptly, moving out of the way before his body could crash into hers. It was eerily easy, falling into a witty back-and-forth with him. It didn’t make her forget why she hated him, but it came too close to reminding her why she didn’t. She spoke slowly but with vigor, forcing herself to meet his eyes.

“We are not friends, Jacob Ravenwood. I would wish that we had never met, but the truth is that I wouldn’t be the person I am today without you. And it pains me to admit that, but I have no problem hating you for the rest of my life for it.” His gaze sharpened at that and she held it through sheer willpower. “I don’t think you care, and it doesn’t matter to me whether you do, even though it makes you a cold, _unfeeling_ —” she broke off before she went too far and tried again, still keeping her eyes trained on him even though everything in her was screaming to get away. “I don’t know how much this affects your life, but all you need to know about me is that I have no intention whatsoever of rekindling whatever… _positivity_ ,” she allowed, “there was between us. If you plan on disrespecting that, things will get ugly. I am _not_ leaving this job because of you, Jacob Ravenwood. I hope that whatever remnants of decency you have left can leave me out of the plans you have for the future because _I will not be part of them_.”

She was breathing heavily now, but that didn’t matter. She didn’t blink even though her eyes watered because some childish part of her was saying that blinking was a sign of weakness and defeat. And she was not going to blink in her stare-off with Jacob Ravenwood.

He sucked in a sharp breath, leveling those golden eyes at her. When he spoke, his words were so soft that she could barely believe it was Jacob Ravenwood uttering them.

“You say that as if you were never ready to spend the rest of your life with me.” His lids lowered with his gaze, a small frown beautifully curving his lips downward.

Cassie couldn’t bring herself to answer. She willed herself not to blink because tears were beginning to form at the back of her eyeballs. She knew the stinging sensation far too well and also knew that she was now on a time crunch to get away from him. She wouldn’t let him see her cry. No one got to see her cry.

Before he could say anything else, her wand was out and she tapped her own head. She felt the familiar feeling of an egg being cracked on her skull, the yolk dripping down her scalp until she was covered head to toe. Before taking a breath that would give away her position, she cast a weak silencing spell on herself. She left Jacob Ravenwood staring blankly at the place she’d stood moments before, deigning to go back to her quarters without eating. There were a few things on her syllabi she had to fix, anyway. She could find plenty of things to do, even as she told herself that she was not letting Jacob Ravenwood affect her life.

Though she would never admit to the little specks of saltwater that splashed onto her invisible robes, she was at least successful in distracting herself. Instead of thinking about him, she wrote out some notes for herself to follow. It was a little unnerving to write with invisible hands, but she didn’t have the energy or the will to undo the spell. It would just have to fade like the raw emotions gnawing at the corners of her brain.

Her makeshift planner included blocks for things like “outline lessons” and “brew replacement potions” and even “find a secluded place in the castle to eat in peace.” She had a goal to explore the castle in her first weeks here and get familiar as she could with the place. It wouldn’t do for an employee of the school to be as lost as the influx of eleven-year-olds. The older students would probably never let her live it down and that was if they could get over themselves long enough to cozy up to an American. And a mixblood, at that.

Then again, she reflected, they didn’t really have to like her. They only had to respect her as their instructor. She tried to think of ways to make that happen but she scratched each one off the list. She couldn’t scare them… much. The school nurse probably wouldn’t appreciate that anyway. Cassie got up to do some light stretching. A small tap of her wand bid the parchment from the Headmistress containing her class schedule to levitate in front of her.

On Mondays and Thursdays, she had third year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws (both ridiculous names for Houses, she privately thought) in the morning, then lunch, second years at noon (it had taken a lot of convincing for the Headmistress to let her teach all four houses at once), followed by fifth year Gryffindors and Ravenclaws, and finally fourth year Ravenclaws and Slytherins. On Tuesdays and Fridays, she had first years (again, a LOT of convincing) first thing in the morning (she didn’t know how to feel about that) followed by fourth year Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors, lunch, third year Gryffindors and Slytherins, and ending the day with fifth year Hufflepuffs and Slytherins. She had sixth years for a double period on Wednesday mornings, which she didn’t have to split into Houses because O.W.L. results tended to thin the herd of N.E.W.T. students anyway. The only evening instruction she had was after dinner on Mondays and Wednesdays for her Dueling elective.

Wednesdays in general were reserved for electives and once-a-week class blocks, so many of the younger students would end up having Muggle Studies (she still hated that name) and Magical Theory that day, as those had been added as requirements for first and second years. Astronomy and Astrology had been reduced from a core class to a requirement for first and second years only. As Cassie understood it, Professor Sinistra had been quite miffed at both this and at the addition of Astrology to the scope of her class. She held that she would teach during regular class periods the way the core classes were taught. The History of Magic course requirement had also been reduced, though less than Astronomy and Astrology because communicating curriculum changes with Professor Binns had apparently been a nightmare for the Headmistress. History of Magic was now required for four years instead of the usual five.

All students from first year to fifth year were now mandatorily enrolled in the Health and Wellness course, which for first years was just the old Flying course but for the upper years was more and more about physical, mental, emotional, social, sexual, and magical health. This and the Dueling elective were the courses Cassie had proposed during her interview process. She had been surprised when going over the old curriculum that students weren’t learning general health information they needed for life. In light of the battle that shook the school, the Headmistress had agreed that student health was to be taken more seriously. Parents could opt their children out, of course, but those families were sent the materials for the course and encouraged to educate their children by the recommended timeline.

After being hired, Cassie and some of the other new teachers had fought for Magical Theory and Muggle Studies (must they _really_ refer to it by that title?) to be requirements for first and second years as well. Extensive research in the past few years had shown that a few years of solid Magical Theory background was instrumental in preventing errant spellwork. There were also studies that supported the mandatory study of regional non-magical communities, showing that an optimum period of two years significantly decreased breaches of the International Statute of Secrecy. Granted, those studies had been conducted in America, but they still held some sway for the Headmistress. Since the school had been closed for a year anyway in order to fully restore, secure, and staff the castle, the Headmistress had listened to the bright, young voices urgently telling her that Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was severely behind the times. Most families had just gone with the changes, especially since third years and above were given the option to skip the required classes by self-studying and taking examinations upon their return. Incoming second years were given heaps of required coursework to keep them busy starting in January of the new year, on top of the summer work they were already required to complete. All in all, the faculty was spread quite thinly across the new curriculum, but the hope was that no student could say that their education had been incomplete.

Very few families had reacted violently to the changes enacted by the new Headmistress. Those few had sent their children to other institutions instead of letting them rest for a year. The children were either permanently transferred or transferred back to Hogwarts for the new academic year. These were the students who resided in the castle in the quiet days leading up to September 1st. Cassie felt a bit bad for them, as they had spent the better part of the week in grueling exams, but she hoped that they would be stronger for it. She hadn’t needed to test them herself because Professor Flitwick was an acclaimed Duelist on a national level. She didn’t really need to see them to know that their parents had probably forced them to switch schools. It was just the sort of flippant, erratic thing the members of the higher echelons of society would pull in order to make a show of power. What was the point of making a child’s education so inconsistent? Weren't they just taking away the stability and peacefulness the children needed to regain? In her mind, it was likely that parents were frantically trying to regain some sense of control after their children’s lives had been under siege. The dozens of families pulling their kids out for good and enrolling them on the continent or elsewhere had instigated a massive movement. The world watched and questioned whether sending children to Hogwarts was an elaborate death trap.

Other schools were happy for the tuition coming their way, of course. Durmstrang and Beauxbatons teetered between flaunting their relationship with Hogwarts and emphasizing their differences. Bigger schools in America took special advantage of the situation by sending letter after letter to parents and saying that their schools had been open for X amount of years and had been safe for Y amount of years and were now implementing a temporary rolling admission policy. All in all, the year Hogwarts was closed was a slap in the face to all its former students. The school hadn’t ever shut down in their memory. Not even when a girl was found dead in a bathroom.

And yet, there were many families who could not begrudge the Headmistress this decision. There were those who thanked her, even. To see something so ugly up close, to be traumatized by the deaths of their peers was not something anyone ever thought was acceptable. And sending them back to be haunted by those screams and jets of light just didn’t seem right. So when the decision was made, the Headmistress had released a small missive in the _Daily Prophet_ to explain the decision. _Take the time to heal_ , she’d said.

Was it worth it? Cassie didn’t know the answer to that. And she doubted that anyone would for a good few years to come. But a new start gave one thing that most people had given up: hope. Things were different now, she thought as she folded her schedule with her now-visible hand. Her eyes caught on a rather large block on Wednesday from noon to five. While scanning the parchment, she’d thought that the block was blank, but she could now only stare at the small print she'd missed. This was the block she would be most worried about, if she was the type to let a little thing like worry get in her way. Even so, she mulled over the seven words as she settled into her sheets for the night and fell into the trance of a Dreamless Sleep.

 _Remedial N.E.W.T. Defense: Seventh years and Alumni_.


	3. the new norm

Cassie tried not to obviously fidget in her dapper midnight robes. They were a bit stiff since it was the first time she was wearing them, but making an impression tonight was important. She didn’t want to give the wrong one. Curious students stared almost unabashedly at the new teachers. Cassie was highly aware of this attention, and it was starting to grate at her nerves. She was seated next to the Herbology professor who wore frumpy brown robes that smelled faintly of valerian root as if to accentuate her position. The witch was talking cheerily to an unenthusiastic-looking Madam Hooch. On Cassie’s other side, Alberto Phineas Guerrero was clad in austere black robes and a nonchalant expression.

The Great Hall was more active than she’d ever seen it (granted, she'd only seen it for two days). The stars in the enchanted ceiling twinkled at them from above and students were reuniting animatedly with each other despite having just ridden the train together for roughly seven hours. Though there was something in the air that Cassie couldn’t quite understand until she saw the somber faces of some of the seventh year students closest to the staff's table. With a jolt that caused her to bang her knee into the table (and that earned her a critical glare from the Transfigurations professor beside her), she realized with acute pity that they were remembering. The students who weren’t excitedly chattering didn’t look glad to be back. Their sunken, hollow expressions made her think that they would rather be anywhere else in the world. It had only been a little over a year. Perhaps it was still too soon.

The faces below were dull, blank, excited, ecstatic—so varied that getting a read on the room as a whole was of little purpose. Cassie had confidence that her students would find the year fulfilling if nothing else. And a small part of her dared to hope that they would find some peace as well.

The great doors opened and a hush spread throughout the room. The Deputy Headmaster, Professor Flitwick, led a group of young students by twos. Their faces were cautious, anxious, curious, and too many shades in between for her to study them from afar. Professor Flitwick conjured a stool with no small amount of finesse before facing the tiny first years. He placed a patchy old hat on it, beaming. Cassie briefly had the ridiculous notion that he was going to pull a rabbit out of it, but he stepped aside instead. There was a moment wherein all held their breath in anticipation. Then the old, worn thing wriggled and coughed some dust through two of its more prominent folds. If that wasn’t surprising enough, it then started to _sing_.

“ _Welcome one and welcome all_  
_To the school where you’ll be learning_  
_It’s been a year since we’ve been here_  
_And I thank you for returning!_

_I’ll meet each one of you at a time_  
_And call the House you’re nearest_  
_Oh, stop fretting, it’s not too upsetting_  
_Unless you detest a lyrist!_

_When last I sat here in this Hall_  
_I warned you of times peril_  
_But you’ve come back and I’ve a knack_  
_Of being your referral_

_When the world was young and I was made_  
_I chose the House of students_  
_So just sit tight, it’ll be alright_  
_Though I would advise some prudence_

_Just because I call one name_  
_From our school’s noble Founders_  
_Is not to say you don’t stand to gain_  
_From one another’s blunders_

_Good Godric established Gryffindor_  
_As the House for the most valiant_  
_If you’ve got nerve enough to serve_  
_Your determination’s salient_

_Rowena reigned over Ravenclaw_  
_For the creative and the witty_  
_Perhaps you’re sharp or you’ve got spark_  
_Your passion makes you giddy_

_Fair Helga handled Hufflepuff_  
_With tolerance and kindness_  
_With work and wait and also faith_  
_You might find your likeness_

_Salazar stood for Slytherin_  
_Guileful and resourceful_  
_If you’ve the gleam to achieve your dream_  
_You’ll think this Sorting worthful_

_So step on up and try me on_  
_Before we all grow weary_  
_I’ve never been wrong except in song_  
_And I know you won’t be sorry!_ ”

Students cheered as applause broke out. Amused and curious, Cassie joined in. It was cute for the hat to sing, she thought, and a good idea since some students would not have had much exposure to magic, much less the school. Did the hat come up with a new song every year? And where did it go between Sortings? And did it smell as awful as it looked? She wasn’t sure she wanted to test out that last one personally, as every kid at Hogwarts had been putting that hat on for hundreds of years. Which, she realized belatedly, was pretty grody. She hoped the students were too preoccupied with the Sorting Ceremony to come to the same conclusion, or at the very least that the hat often underwent very thorough Cleaning Charms.

She watched as Professor Flitwick called each name, after which the kid called would sit on the stool and place the hat on their own head. The hat would wait a while, sometimes for minutes or seconds or for no time at all before declaring a House name. Then the student jumped off the platform and went to sit at the table screaming the loudest. The ceremony went on and on until the last student was Sorted. Then the Headmistress rose to the lectern to give start-of-term notices. She began introducing the new professors, so Cassie forced herself to start actively listening.

“We have always employed alumni of this school as instructors. However, this year we have decided to abandon that tradition. Tonight, you see before you extremely capable witches and wizards who have agreed to join us this term. Some will be leaving us in January, while others will stay. It is thus your task to join the incumbent staff in welcoming the new additions to our Hogwarts family.”

All eyes blinked up at them, some bright, some curious, some friendly, some suspicious. The Headmistress continued, introducing them from Cassie’s left to right.

“Firstly, Miss Woodwalker who will be teaching Muggle Studies.”

Alessia Woodwalker had enough common sense to stand in acknowledgment of the introduction. Applause sounded, though some students exchanged dirty looks. Cassie guessed that there was some pushback on the new requirements, particularly in regards to non-magical studies.

“Please join me in welcoming Mister Wilcox. He will be teaching the new International Relations elective, as well as the Art and Writing electives.”

More applause. Cassie could see some students whispering to each other while others just looked up at David Wilcox, intrigued.

“Next, Professor Guerrero has taken a permanent post in Transfigurations. He has also agreed to teach the new Technomancy elective."

The clapping this time was only garnish for the cheers and whistles that erupted on one end of one of the tables. By the robes and table decorations, Cassie guessed that the Ravenclaws in particular were thankful for their new professor even as he only expressed the emotional range of a teaspoon.

“Miss Glassman will be your Defense instructor. She has also agreed to undertake the new Dueling elective.”

Cassie remembered to stand just in time for it not to look incredibly awkward. A sea of faces staring at her, she was unsure of how to feel. Her applause was standard, with a few cheers from one of the tables mixed in. That would be the Gryffindors, she reflected as she sat down again. She was on the receiving end of far too many gazes. A blush had begun to creep up her neck despite her attempts at casting a wandless Cooling Charm. While the Headmistress moved on with introductions, Cassie turned to her neighbor, mostly trying to distract herself but also letting her words carry a respectable level of sincerity.

“I didn’t know you had acquired a full-time position. Congratulations.” She spoke quietly and barely moved her mouth. Her face was inclined towards him, but not enough that it was obvious that she was tuning out the Headmistress.

For a moment that seemed too long, she thought he hadn’t heard her. She wasn’t the type to repeat her words, so she settled for silence between them and faced the back of the Headmistress’ forest green robes once more in order to clap at the appropriate times. The second to last instructor was being introduced when he finally answered her.

“I didn’t know either.”

“Hmm?” she asked distractedly, only catching the tail-end of what he’d said.

“I didn’t know I had a full-time position until yesterday. I went to speak with the Headmistress about something when she sprung the offer on me.”

Cassie waited for the clapping to quell before saying, “That’s really lucky. And well-deserved, I'm sure. Congratulations, _Professor_.” A teasing note came through without her expressly letting it. She had to refrain from hiding her face in embarrassment once the words left her mouth.

The Transfigurations professor was quiet for a moment. “Thank you.” It sounded genuine, which made Cassie feel like a wretch for making fun of him. That was, until he said, “I’m sure if you survive the curse, she’ll offer you a more permanent position, too.”

Cassie willed herself not to gape, though she couldn’t avoid choking a little on her own spit. The wizard made a sound that was like the rumbling of a mountain which she recognized after a moment as laughter. She flashed him a grin from behind the napkin that dabbled the corners of her mouth.

She knew about the curse, of course. The Headmistress had been very clear about the terms of employment, and it was the reason that more experienced applicants had withdrawn early on. The only measure taken was admittedly flimsy: it was just changing the name of the course itself. If Cassie was being honest with herself, the curse did scare her a little, mostly because there was so little information available regarding it. But a little fear wasn’t going to deter her from obtaining her teaching license. If she confirmed that there was indeed a curse, she could try to pick up a permanent position elsewhere. Or she could lift it. Wouldn’t a curse be right up her alley? She supposed that the other applicants might have had some regard for their own safety, but Cassie didn’t subscribe to that in the same way. Why should she leave someone else to deal with a curse when she could try to do something about it herself? Wasn’t this the kind of thing she was requiring her N.E.W.T. students to study anyway?

She made a mental note to ask around about the curse on her position before tuning just as the Headmistress was wrapping up her speech.

“Lastly, our caretakers Mr. Filch and Mr. Davenport have asked me to kindly remind you that the Forbidden Forest and the corridor near the courtyard are off-limits to students. And now, students, I must personally ask that you all proceed with care this year.”

Cassie stared at the back of the Headmistress’ hat, curious.

“Hogwarts has gone through enormous changes, not only in staffing, curricula, and attitude, but also in reputation.” Cassie couldn’t see the look in the Headmistress’ eyes, but her voice took a turn for the tired. The students did not whisper among each other as she said this. Cassie could see the gravity of her position afflicting her shoulders with a slight sag.

The Headmistress faltered only for the smallest of pauses before regaining her momentum for short last words. “The world has its eyes on Hogwarts. Do your Founders proud.” With a graceful flourish of her wand, food appeared at all the tables and applause boomed throughout the hall.

Cassie thought that the phrasing had been curious. Instead of telling them to do their school or their teachers proud, she had instead appealed to the Founders of the institution. It wasn’t too far of a stretch, of course, but Cassie still had a curious feeling about it even as she downed her first glass of pumpkin juice. She could feel Professor Guerrero’s gaze on her and she reluctantly showed some self-control. She slowed down, trying not to inhale everything in front of her all at once. All in all, it had been an interesting evening. She chewed on a roll thoughtfully, mentally going over her schedule for the rest of the week. She felt a tingle and washed it down with more pumpkin juice before realizing that she was just very excited for the next day.

  
  
  


For the rest of this week and the next, Cassie would be helping the school nurse in instructing all seven years on basic first aid. This was a measure the matron had insisted upon. The Headmistress had faced similar entreaties from parents, so she couldn’t exactly ignore it. Cassie was looking forward to it. It wasn’t her official first day of teaching, but it came close enough. She and Madam Hooch had both been roped into it since Madam Hooch was in charge of the Health and Wellness requirement and Cassie had been an ardent supporter of it. The other staff members wandered in and out of the Great Hall to spectate. The tables had been cleared and the hall was now separated into seven distinct sections.

Students aged eleven to seventeen sat with their whole attention on Madam Pomfrey. It seemed that the Mediwitch was a formidable force in the school. Most of the first years were utterly intimidated, and even the upper years didn’t roll their eyes. The matron covered basic forewarning about sensitive materials and began separating the students into their years.

As Madam Pomfrey covered the school’s emergency protocol and explained the range of lessons to be covered, Cassie went ahead and set up the life-sized dolls she’d ordered for her Dueling class. She set up fourteen in a row. More than half of them were rentals, but she doubted anyone could destroy them beyond repair while she was around. They were meant specifically for Nursing students in American non-magical communities, but she had modified them to be resistant to martial magic in order to mimic rudimentary magical defense. She had chosen these over the mannequins most Dueling instructors ordered, mostly because those were unnecessarily expensive (both in price and upkeep) and the eerily lifelike flesh always gave her the wiggins. The non-magical alternative was expensive as well, but Cassie found that upkeep wasn’t difficult as long as she recasted the protective spells every so often. Besides, the non-magical dolls responded just as well to Healing charms, so there was no real advantage to investing in the creepier alternative. 

Cassie was getting some curious glances as she finished setting up, but most students knew not to ignore Madam Hooch, as she was now speaking. Cassie didn't have much to do except listen. Perhaps it would be helpful to review this information, anyway. The Quidditch coach covered the basics of what to do when faced with emergency situations, starting with remaining calm and keeping oneself in a safe position to help. Keeping oneself safe not only meant physically; she also meant that the students should try to obtain consent from the affected person. That wasn’t possible always, but the situation itself would tell them if that step was necessary. Then she told the students that delegation was often essential to keeping control of the situation and that they would have to choose specific people from among the bystanders to call for help, bring supplies, help take care of the affected person, and so on. She stressed the importance of clearing the area before attempting to help someone. She told them to check the victim’s airways, breathing, circulation, and magical status. Finally, she explained that pressure must be applied to an open wound to help stop the bleeding. She again emphasized delegation, adding this time that though it was likely more experienced wizards and witches than they would be able to respond to the situation, there might come a time in their lives that they were the most experienced magical person in the room. She included some tips on minimizing panic and bedside manner for conscious patients.

“Thank you, Madam Hooch.” Cassie spoke this time, approaching the front of the hall to stand next to the witch she’d just addressed. “We’ll be covering emergency beacon spells today, specifically the two Red Sparks spells and two Green Sparks spells. All four of these are extremely important in emergency situations, so please pay attention to the following demonstration.”

She pointed her wand straight up toward the ceiling and enunciated clearly. “ _Periculum_!” The faint red spark was small at first but moved quickly up through the air until it seemed to almost reach the ceiling. Then it burst into multiple sparks and flew in different directions. She turned back to the students. “The root of this incantation means ‘danger,’ so this spell is intended to alert allies to a dangerous situation if they are not close in proximity. However, it is important to note that this spell only works as an emergency beacon and nothing more. In bright environments, it will do very little. It cannot be used to defend against an opponent. The sparks aren’t very bright, but they will reach an incredible height if given the correct emphasis.”

She completed a wand movement this time, swishing to the right and abruptly changing direction downward and to the left as she said “ _Vermillious_!” before pointing her wand up at the ceiling once more. Bright red sparks lit at the tip of her wand. A few students of the first years nearest to her jumped back in surprise. She held back a smile before continuing with her explanation. “This spell, as you can see, also emits Red Sparks. These sparks can be sent into the air” and she flicked the tip of her wand towards the ceiling to illustrate that very point “but also remain bright at close range. I do _not_ recommend excessive use of this spell, especially as it is magically taxing after a while and also places those in its immediate vicinity under some threat. However, it can be used as a minor Dueling spell, so unlike _Periculum_ , _Vermillious_ might help you fend off or surprise an unfriendly opponent.”

“As opposed to a friendly opponent?” she could have sworn someone said, but she magnanimously decided to ignore that remark.

“ _Vermillious_ also has the advantage of becoming more powerful with the addition of the modifiers _Duo_ or _Tria_ to the incantation. _Vermillious Tria_ is the most powerful version of the incantation. It is not recommended to go further with the spell because any more will either be ineffective, blind the caster, or severely drain the caster of magic and result in grave injury. So do NOT stray from the textbook here. I don’t think I have to remind most of you that Spellcrafters spend years talking and arguing theory before they’re allowed to utter a single syllable of the incantations they invent out loud. It’s in your best interest not to exhaust Madam Pomfrey simply because you’ve decided to humor your hubris.”

She moved onto the Green Sparks spells, erecting a shield between her and the students before making sure that her “ _Verdillious_!” was articulated clearly. Brilliant green light burst from her wand tip, burning and smoking and crackling menacingly. She let it go out after a moment and released the shield. “This spell can also be used as a Dueling spell to burn your opponent. However, prolonged use might have disastrous effects, so I don’t recommend it as a long-term Dueling strategy.”

She conjured the shield again, though this time it was much larger and looked to be slightly thicker. It was shaped like a dome or perhaps a very huge bubble. With a forward slashing movement, she cast “ _Verdimillious_!” A nearly green light brighter than all the others flashed for a moment, and then small sparks of bright green floated about the room. She cast it again, this time with a circular motion above her head. The green sparks exploded from the tip of her wand this time, shooting outward almost aggressively. She canceled both spells and the shield before speaking again. “The Verdimillious Charm is used similarly to _Verdillious_ , but it can also be used as a revealing tool. The first way I cast the spell is primarily used to reveal objects concealed by Dark magic. The second way I cast the spell is used offensively in Dueling and will have the same effects as _Verdillious_ , but will also burn or blind your opponents. The spell is in effect as long as the sparks remain.”

She eyed them sternly. “Some of these spells are reserved for fourth years, but the Headmistress has agreed that you all knowing how to call for help is more important than adhering to the Ministry’s guidelines. However, should I or any of the staff come to the understanding that _any_ student has used these spells offensively in an unsanctioned setting, the consequences could include anything from term-long detention to expulsion. Misuse of this information will result in severe disciplinary action.”

Madam Pomfrey stepped forward, taking the time to explain that once the seventh, sixth, fifth, and fourth year students were able to demonstrate all four sparks, they would be moving on to the dolls. It was a slow-going process since each of them could only do this one at a time, but it was getting to about half past eleven when they were done. Cassie and Madam Hooch had taken to instructing the lower years in this time, and they were making a good amount of headway.

The tables were moved back into place and lunch was served. Cassie was grateful for the break. She hadn’t expected to be so overwhelmed by a mere emergency magic lesson. As she was sitting down to munch on her sandwich, though, she had this feeling in the back of her mind. It was bothering her very much now that she noticed that the student population at Hogwarts was overwhelmingly white. This couldn’t be a reflection of Britain’s magical population, surely, nor did her initial suspicions sit well with her—the ones that suggested that perhaps the people of color in Britain suffered from magical suppression at the hands of a sovereign power like the Ministry or were disproportionately non-magical. It wasn't like the British Ministry of Magic had a lack of issues. How many magical governments could say they had been overtaken by blood supremacists in recent history? She dismissed the latter theory as soon as it came. There was no way that the difference would be _that_ palpable, if there was one in the first place. The national of the United Kingdom was chicken tikka masala, for Dianic’s sake. And it wouldn't explain the demographics she'd witnessed in Americal magical schools.

No, it was ridiculous to think that. But she couldn’t ignore that at least a tenth of the school should have been people of color, and yet the staff was diverse than the students. She vaguely remembered reading something about a South Asian Split in England, but she promised herself to do some research about it. Perhaps a visit to David Wilcox was in order, though she wasn’t sure his knowledge in International Relations would afford him much insight into the school in particular. Still, it was worth a try. If nothing else bore fruit, she supposed that a conversation with the Headmistress would suffice as a last resort. 

Once lunch was over, the lesson resumed. Cassie casually flicked her wand with a halfhearted “ _Diffindo_ ” towards the Defense mannequins. A few gasps and shouts sounded as cuts and scrapes began to appear on the outer skin, drips of fake blood running down their arms. Madam Pomfrey threw her a sour look and Cassie grimaced. Perhaps a warning might have been in order for children who had basically been collectively traumatized and terrorized in recent years. She chastised herself for such carelessness and promised that she would be more cognizant going forward. She and Madam Hooch continued teaching the younger students as Madam Pomfrey instructed the upper years on basic Skin Repair charms.

The next week passed by slowly, with every day bringing a new challenge to Cassie’s patience. Even members of the faculty who had occasionally popped their heads inside the doors to get a look at the action now barely bothered to stop by except at mealtime. Most of the younger students had succeeded in their Red Sparks and just a few struggled with the Green Sparks spells. They were working on simple Healing charms (which were mostly cosmetic, but that was okay) while Madam Pomfrey led the older students in conjuring basic diagnostic charms. Most of the older students brought study materials since they were under the impression that this instruction was only supplementary material for their O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. preparation. The upper years also covered conjuring bandages and gauze, stymieing bleeding, and administering emergency potions. Cassie quizzed the hall every day on emergency protocol, supplies, and tactics to keep their attention and ingrain the information into their minds. She tried to go easy on them when she could, though, because she knew that the majority of students were testing out of the newly implemented requirements during this period.

She had been so caught up in the daily grind of eat, teach, sleep, repeat, that she hadn’t noticed until Madam Pomfrey thanked her and Madam Hooch that it was their last day. The following Monday would be her first real day teaching. She felt like the past week had been a useful, positive (if slightly harrowing) experience, and could only hope that her first day of classes didn’t end in total disaster.

  
  
  


Total disaster wasn’t exactly the word for it.

It wasn’t wholly awful, but ambivalence settled in Cassie’s stomach uncomfortably as she reflected on her day in her office, a little exhausted but mostly just wanting to be left alone.

Her third years in the morning had been very cooperative. That had given her some encouragement for the day. However, she should have remembered that third years on their own were slightly more mature than younger students. She also should have realized that Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws (those names, even though they were Founders’ names, were still ridiculous to her) were much tamer than the other two houses. 

If Gryffindor was fire, then Slytherin was ice.

Really, she probably should have brought Houses into consideration when she asked to teach the younger years together. Perhaps the inflexible attitude of Madam Pomfrey or the discerning eye of Madam Hooch had kept them from tearing each other apart the week prior. Whatever it had been, the second year students scheduled for after lunch exhibited everything she needed to know and more than she wanted to know about House relations. She could only hope that her first year students the next morning would be less at each other’s throats (and less at her own).

It was clear that while the Ravenclaws inherently respected their instructor, they despised having their intelligence insulted. The Hufflepuffs were kind, but even they could not tell what she wanted to achieve through her lesson. The Gryffindors and the Slytherins were constantly antagonizing each other, and that persisted until she threatened to take away points. She didn’t want to, not really, not only because the points system felt completely arbitrary but also because she felt acutely uncomfortable holding that kind of power over them. But they didn’t know that, and she wasn’t about to pour her feelings out for them to take swift advantage.

She was only half an hour into the period when, having gone over the syllabus, she asked them to open their textbooks and begin reading from the first chapter. The second years were annoyed to be having such a passive Defense lesson, of course, but she fully planned for them to read only for homework in the future. It was still just the first day. She wasn’t going to dive into descriptions of Beasts as she had with her third years. Ten, twenty full minutes went by with only the ruffling of papers as a soundtrack. Cassie busied herself with grading the remainder of the quizzes her third years had taken. It wouldn’t be counted as part of their grade (though she had purposely left out that information when giving it to them) but it would serve as a benchmark so she knew where they were and how far they had to go in order to pass the O.W.L. exam. Some of them were struggling with basic material but most seemed to be on track.

A dainty cough forced her to look away from one particularly scratched-out parchment. A blonde student with a green and silver tie had her hand raised high.

She glanced at her seating chart. “Yes, Ms. Rowle?”

“I was wondering, Professor, are we being tested on this material?”

Cassie raised her brows in amusement. “Do I give the impression of assigning pointless work, Ms. Rowle? Also, I am not a Professor. ‘Miss Glassman’ will do.”

“I think what she means, Miss Glassman,” the girl next to her piped up, “is that this material is a tad unconventional.”

Cassie consulted the seating chart again. “Ms. Avery. Please remember to raise your hand before speaking. And yes, I agree. I have seen the past syllabi for your Defense Against the Dark Arts class. As I understand it, there hasn’t been a consistent instructor for that course in a good fifty years, so there is hardly a bar for this 'convention' you assume. And even if there were, I would remind you that this class is not Defense _Against the Dark Arts_ ; it is simply Defense.” Her voice was as flat as Texas and her visage gave off little emotion. She had to stop herself from thinking that Alberto Phineas Guerrero probably had the exact same expression, wherever he was at this moment.

A Ravenclaw hand shot in the air at the speed of a rocket.

“Yes, Mr. Everleigh?”

“Is there a reason we’re learning this, Miss Glassman? Only, our Defense O.W.L., which is still considered Defense _Against the Dark Arts_ , does not cover this material.”

She gave up on grading, brushing the quizzes gently aside and opting instead to move in front of her desk for the time being. She sat, facing them with her full attention.

“Again, I must ask whether you all think I would waste your time with pointless work. What you all are doing now is the same material I have for my first years. I plan to teach you all at twice the pace so that by the end of the fall term—perhaps earlier if we’re lucky—you’ll be able to finish the first year syllabus. And before you ask, no, I am not planning on making the upper years go through this material as extensively as you will be, but it will be material I provide for them alongside their O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. studies.”

Her students exchanged uncertain glances. Some scowled while others pouted. One Gryffindor raised his hand.

“Yes, Mr. Prewett?”

“With all due respect, Miss Glassman…” he looked like he was already regretting his words, but then decided that he might as well get it over with. “If the upper years don’t have to learn it for the O.W.L. or N.E.W.T. exams, why do we? Why do we need to learn about our…” He trailed off as he recited the chapter heading verbatim, “'Magical and Non-magical Rights'?”

“To answer both your question and Mr. Everleigh’s, Mr. Prewett, I don’t teach to the O.W.L. exam. And I certainly don’t care to introduce highly intense and irrelevant N.E.W.T. material at your level. The material we’ll be covering this year is neither essential to the O.W.L. nor to the N.E.W.T., but I consider it essential to your lives. At least, it’s information I wish _I_ had known earlier.” Her tone and expression softened a bit as she looked at them, clasping her hands in front of her in a gesture she hoped no one recognized as acute distress. “I know I’m new and I never attended this school. You all have that advantage over me. However, I hope you will extend me the courtesy of believing that, as one of your instructors, I have your best interests in mind. It’s only the first day. Readings will be assigned as homework from this point and we will have a quiz every Thursday. If you feel that this information is not worth your time and that you would rather suffer academically, or if you feel that you already know this information and would not benefit whatsoever from this class, you are welcome to skip my lectures. You have the list of readings, after all. Should you decide to skip, however, I will not take responsibility for your whereabouts. Nor will I go easy on you when exams roll around in December.” She looked at them, searching their faces for some kind of reaction. Some seemed curious, while others seemed to be stifling scoffs.

The bell rang to dismiss her rowdy second years and they left her feeling more than a little uncertain about her lesson plans. Months ago, when she’d come up with her syllabus, it had seemed reasonable. Natural, even. Why was she now questioning her own decisions? Did the words of a room of children have such merit? She couldn’t dismiss them because of their age, though, especially given that most of them had been first years at Hogwarts. Some were transfers from other schools because their parents couldn’t bear to let them sit idle for a year, while others had been homeschooled. Others were thirteen and had been held back because of their non-magical heritage since Hogwarts hadn’t permitted those without magical parentage to attend school in the year leading up to the Battle of Hogwarts. Those students had been forced into hiding, whether that be in plain sight or in non-magical communities. Most of the students in her second year class, she had to remind herself, had been at the mercy of the cruel Carrows at age eleven. She hadn’t missed the anxious glances she’d been receiving all day in the halls, no doubt the result of her predecessor’s reputation and that _Diffindo_ stunt she’d pulled in the Great Hall in front of the whole school. She’d only ever read about the Carrows, but even on paper they seemed more or less terrifying.

Her Gryffindor and Ravenclaw fifth years filed in just as she finished grading the quizzes. She welcomed them with a written mock O.W.L. exam. Ignoring their groans, she then wrote their homework on the chalkboard next to her desk. She was assigning them ten inches of writing on an area in which they thought they needed to improve the most from the mock exam. Most of the grumbling quieted after that since it wasn’t real homework in any sense. At the end of the period, the exhausted fifth years glanced at her warily before packing their stuff and leaving. She treated her fourth years much the same, only requiring seven inches, but also assigning a little reading from the material for first and second years. The fourth years had plenty of time for her to cram O.W.L. material into their heads, so she wanted them to have some practical knowledge of real-life Defense scenarios.

She hoped that the information she’d specifically added to the first and second year material would turn out to be useful for most students. It had been quite a time learning Ministry law, she reflected as she reclined at her office desk. Ministry law was a completely separate beast from MaCUSA’s leviathan. Both had their peculiarities, but she was prepared to address them. And if she couldn’t, well, she was as much here to learn as her students were. As long as she was trying her best, she doubted that things could go horribly wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! I was much more lax about editing than previously. This is all I have written up so far plus a little of Chapter 4, so updates will be a lot slower from now on! Please let me know what you think and hit me with that constructive criticism :P
> 
> In case there's any confusion, there are a bunch of things that happened in Cassie's past. I don't plan on going into them mainly because this book is about how Hogwarts deals with the aftermath of Magical Britain's Second Wizarding War, particularly the Battle of Hogwarts. That's not to say that there won't be any action or excitement in this book, but if it seems slow-going then that's probably because I'm taking extra time to set things up or because some of the scenes are more important to the overarching narrative :)


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